


Spotless Mind; Soonhoon

by kwanies



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Soonhoon - Freeform, and they love each other. so, anyway jihoon is sad and so is soonyoung but they got each other, he comes up vv briefly, i dont know what to put, i should mention !! seungkwan is only really mentioned sort of, im so bad at tagging jesus christ, oh well, the others don't make an appearance at all sjkjsd im sorry, there is a happy ending i swear this isn't as sad as it seems at first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-08-10 19:50:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20141038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwanies/pseuds/kwanies
Summary: The world is grey with faded memory, cloudy and stuffed up with cotton Jihoon can't seem to get out of his eyes. He's exhausted himself mentally, he can't keep up anymore, he needs a break -And that's how he meets Soonyoung. That's how his world turns from grey to something lighter, something kinder; it's how he can say he feels happy for the first time in months.There's always more to the story, though, and Soonyoung's got a lot hiding behind him. Jihoon just needs to find it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi !!! i actually started this way back in march, but i wanted to try writing ahead a bit so my updates wouldn't take 5 years - in the end it took me a solid 5 months to write 3 chapters (oops) BUT i rlly wanted to share this so !!! i'm just gonna go ahead and post it !!!!!
> 
> this will be relatively short and quick-paced (as in feelings n hand-holding n all that fun stuff starts in like the 2nd chapter lmao) but i hope the pacing isn't too off !!!! i want this to be pretty even ?? if that makes sense ???? so pls let me know how that goes 
> 
> thank you for reading as always !! and i hope you like it !

**⍮**

**JIHOON STEPS OFF** the train just when dawn starts to hit, pale orange filtering through the clouds and sending strips of light across his vision. After nearly three and a half hours of being parked in one seat with nothing to keep him entertained but the trees passing outside his window, it feels good to stretch his legs. It feels good to look around and spot the familiarity. He hasn’t seen familiar in a while.

“Yeah, no, I know - Mom, I  _ know _ .” Jihoon doesn’t even have to hold the phone up to his ear to hear his mother squabbling from the other end of the line. She’s going on about having enough food and keeping busy and  _ Please, if you start to get lonely, just come back home. _ He rolls his eyes.

“I’m only staying a week or two, not too long. I’ll call you every day, I swear, just don’t worry so much.”  _ I’m an adult _ , he wants to say.  _ I haven’t lived with you for years now, anyway. _

He feels a little guilty for it, going about things the way he did. Buying a train ticket on a whim, calling no other person besides his mom to let her know he’ll be out of town, and with no explanation for it. He’s been ignoring all his texts and he’s got eight missed calls logged with no calls back. He isn’t off the grid, but he’s pretty damn close to the edge of it.

For just a little while, he wants to be nonexistent. But even he isn’t mean enough to ghost his own mother.

“Trust me,” Jihoon says, “this will be good for me. I think I just need some time away ... I love you.”

This little country house - barely a twenty-minute drive from the train station - is a second home to him. From weekend visits to spending entire summers here with the family, Jihoon’s got photographs burned to the back of his memory, lake water smell and loud laughter clinging to his senses; he’s alone, now, and he smells too much like sweat and car freshener to notice anything else, but his heart settles comfortably nonetheless.

It’s awfully quiet when he drops his bags upstairs; the countertops are coated in a layer of dust and the shower water takes too long to warm up from lack of use. Things are sort of a mess, but he’s comfortable. Maybe dusting out the cobwebs will be therapeutic. It’ll be like brushing out the holes in his memory and replacing them with something cleaner.

_ Is this about the accident? Honey, it’s been months. I thought you recovered. _

Jihoon inhales a little too sharply and chokes on his own breath. His hair is wet and dripping in his face. His eyes are wide and staring back at him in the mirror.

_ If you want to talk, talk to me, talk to anyone - but don’t isolate yourself, please. _

He blinks, he swallows, his heart rate doesn’t go back to normal.

_ If there are any gaps, we can try to fill them in. Going away won’t help anything. _

He blinks, he swallows, he runs a towel through his hair and closes a fist around his heart to make it still.

He doesn’t want to think about what happened, so he forces himself to think about anything else. Folding his clothes neatly in a drawer while he unpacks, the steam from his tea burning the tip of his nose when he takes a sip. Birds outside his window. Wind rolling through the grass. It’s still so early in the day.

Everything feels choppy, like he’s watching his own life through a series of jump cuts. When did he get on the train, when did he get off? He can’t remember the walk to the taxi, he can’t remember relaying the address to the driver, he can’t even remember when he walked through the front door. Shower water, slipping on his socks; standing with his palms pressed hard against the kitchen counter and just barely managing his breath. Everything he sees and does plays like a poorly edited film.

Maybe he should call Mom, go back home. Maybe the sharp cuts and jitters of life would be better suited to the city, and he was wrong to think that time away would really help anything. It doesn’t matter where he is in the world, he’ll carry his brain with him everywhere and the illness will follow. That’s not something he can help. Things aren’t okay, and he can’t help that.

A beat, just a beat, firm and heavy against his ribcage.

“Things aren’t okay,” he mutters to himself, “but you’re just going to have to act like they are. You’re out here already, anyway. It’s too late.”

The house sits out, way out, in some picturesque countryside. It looks like something Monet could have painted, natural and pretty with all the loveliest colors, just barely touching civilization. It’s not a neighborhood, there are only a few other houses like this one dotted around nearby, and if you stay out of sight long enough it’s almost easy to believe you’re the only one out here. Sort of a lonely thought, but Jihoon finds it comforting. 

The world outside feels soft-hearted and light, dewy. There’s a mist in the air that sits all lazy and cool and leaves the trees glimmering against daytime, and Jihoon thinks that if he looks around long enough, takes it in long enough, he’ll be able to feel himself blending with it all. Like ink in water, he could bleed out into his surroundings.

He has to remind himself that he’s human. Humans bleed, but they don’t blend; they don’t fade, they’ll never be totally alone. He’s physical and he’s perceived and he has no choice but to deal with the presence of himself.

“Just act like things are okay.”

Jihoon’s quiet and staring out at the water, his breathing gone shallow. The chill nips at the skin on his arms and he thinks he should’ve worn a sweater before stepping out, he thinks he should go grab one. He’s turning to head back in, but then -

“Huh,” Jihoon’s heartbeat stutters at the voice, “I was starting to think this place had been abandoned.”

“Wh-What?”

There’s a man in front of him, placid-faced with his arms crossed behind his back, rolling on the balls of his feet. He gestures to the house. “This place,” he says again. “No one’s been here in years. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

Silent, steadily silent. Jihoon’s watching him and racking his brain because he’s  _ sure _ he’s seen this person before, he’s sure of it, he looks so familiar, but he can’t pick up a memory. Heels digging into the soft ground and a nose that twitches in the coolness of May, but Jihoon can’t quite pick it up.

“Sorry,” he gives up, “who are you?” The boy blinks at him.

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re asking who  _ I _ am?”

“We’re the only two people here.”

“Oh … I’m Soonyoung.”

Jihoon thinks, and he thinks, and he thinks even harder, but he can’t recall that name. Maybe he’s just being paranoid. Maybe, for once, there’s nothing to remember.

“Alright,” he says, then. “I’m Jihoon. Nice to meet you.”

Soonyoung lives right down the lane, apparently, barely a three-minute walk from Jihoon’s front yard. He says he saw Jihoon come in those few hours earlier and thought he should stop by and say hello, since no one’s been in so long, but Jihoon really just hopes that  _ saying hello _ doesn’t turn out to be a regular thing. He came here to get away from people, not make friends.

“I still have some coffee left in the pot, if you’d like some?”

“It’s alright,” Jihoon says. They’re still standing out with the grass tangled around their ankles, staring at what the scenery has to offer. “I can make my own.” Soonyoung’s quiet for some time.

“You probably want to be alone, right?” he finally says, and Jihoon feels bad when he hears it. “I get that. You just showed up this morning, you must be tired. We don’t even know each other that well.”

“Right, yeah. That’s it.”

“ … But another time, maybe?”

The sincerity in his tone pulls at Jihoon, and the latter turns to look at him in full. “We’re the only two people around,” Soonyoung offers. “It’s nice to not be so lonely, sometimes.”

_ Lonely isn’t so bad _ , Jihoon wants to say.  _ Lonely is nice, I like being alone.  _ Instead, he just says, “Sure, maybe another time,” and the smile Soonyoung pays him is almost enough to make him feel like the promise was worth it.

—

Soonyoung’s skin looks pink in the water light; the sunset falls against the lake and reflects upward, right where the boy sits, staring down into it. His legs dangle just enough for his toes to skim the surface, sending ripples outward, and Jihoon’s half tempted to just dive in. He’s not much of a swimmer, but sinking doesn’t seem too difficult.

“How did I end up here?”

“You came over yourself.”

“Oh.”

Jihoon’s spent the last hour trying to recall things - his day (the same coffee mug filled over and over again, cleaning up the yard, reading on the front porch), himself (dissatisfied, hollow, there’s barely anything even there to remember), and Soonyoung (seeing him sit all alone on the dock, feeling bad for him). He can’t remember the walk over, but apparently that’s what happened.

“Sort of surprised me,” Soonyoung laughs a little. “I wasn’t expecting your company any time soon.”

“Yeah, well. You looked a little lonely.”

“You don’t mind being alone, do you?”

“I don’t, but I get the feeling that you do.”

“You’re right,” he says softly, and he frowns. “Makes me wonder why I even came out here to begin with.”

Jihoon gives a sort of half-smile, something weak and lopsided with the weight of irony. Jihoon left the city with the exact intention of getting  _ away _ from people - and yet, here he is, willingly spending time with a boy he barely knows. Makes  _ him _ wonder why he came out here to begin with. Soonyoung asks as much.

“Me?” Jihoon says, frowning in thought. He leans back with his arms to support him, palms heavy against the wood of the dock. “I just needed some time away from everything. The city gets so busy, it’s so noisy … it was giving me a headache.” Soonyoung gives a silent  _ ah _ , nodding.

“I guess I could say the same. As much as I don’t like feeling isolated, I think things were starting to get a little overwhelming where I was.”

“How long have you been here?”

“A month, maybe? Not long.”

A month. A month ago, Soonyoung was sitting on a train with his bags packed and a plan set in stone. Where was Jihoon, then?

“I was probably in a hospital bed about a month ago.”

The air feels heavy, thick and choking. Jihoon has to take several deep breaths before he feels like the oxygen is actually hitting his lungs, and Soonyoung says nothing for a long while.

It feels weird to throw it out in the open like that. Besides talking to doctors and the occasional forced phone call from his mom, Jihoon’s managed to avoid talking about it. He feels awkward with the words, clumsy with the weight of what they hold. Jihoon doesn’t feel responsible enough to handle that.

But Soonyoung’s sitting here now, all soft lines and gentle energy, and it’s out there.

When Soonyoung speaks, it’s slow and careful, like every word is being picked thoughtfully. “You don’t have to talk about it,” he says, “not if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t mind.”

That’s the green light for them both. Soonyoung lifts his legs and sits cross-legged, chin perched in the palm of his hand and listening intently while Jihoon relays the story - or, what he knows of it.

It was a car accident, is what he was told. A head-on collision with another vehicle. The impact went to one side, throwing him diagonally and smashing the rear view mirror with his forehead; his knee went to the dashboard, and from there he was whiplashed back onto the seatbelt-anchor behind him. A good, solid hit to the back of his head, something sharp - that’s what did it.

“So there are like, two main types of amnesia,” he starts, trying to figure out how to explain it in the simplest terms possible. “The first one is arguably the better of the two, retrograde amnesia. Basically, I just forget a whole bunch of shit that happened prior to the accident, like certain events and people.”

“And the second one … ?”

“Uh, anterograde amnesia would be forgetting things  _ after _ the accident. The severity varies from person to person, but it’s basically just a really hardcore case of forgetfulness. In most cases, people lose their declarative memory, which is just facts, but their nondeclarative memory is fine. So, for example,” he adds, noticing the lost look on Soonyoung’s face, “they can remember how to ride a bike, but they might forget what they had for lunch that day.”

“Oh,” Soonyoung says, drawing out the syllable. He’s got this look, with his eyes all wide and his mouth half-open, and Jihoon thinks it’s sort of cute. He’s quiet for a few minutes before asking, “Which one do you have?”

It’s getting late, Jihoon notices. The sun is barely visible now, and he can hear the cicadas chirping. His chest feels tight, tighter with every second that passes and every sound he hears. “I’m pretty unlucky,” he says. “I got both.”

“Oh, damn. That sucks.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Jihoon’s still learning to handle it. He’s never been the most optimistic person, but he’s been trying, he really has. Hard faith and looking at the glass half full is all he really has to count on if he’s to keep his own sanity.

“The  _ before _ stuff doesn’t bother me as much,” he says, trying to clear the pity out from Soonyoung’s gaze. “Like, everything that happened prior to the car crash. It’s hard for me to stress over forgetting things when I don’t even know that they happened at all. And everything  _ after _ \- it’s not so bad.”

“It’s not?”

“No, not really. Mostly, I can remember, it’s just the little things that get me.”

“Like what?”

“Like … Like, when you see a movie, there’s the general plot and then there are the smaller, in-between things. You can look at it as a whole and understand what’s going on just fine, but those tiny details add to the experience, right? They make things feel more real.” He pauses, and Soonyoung nods, motioning for him to continue.

“What bothers me is that I’ve got all these bits and pieces missing from my storyboard. They don’t seem so big, and maybe they don’t really matter, but just the fact that I can’t find them drives me crazy. How am I supposed to be immersed in my own life when I can’t even remember getting out of bed this morning?”

The pink in the sky is starting to fade, the light dimming on the surface of the water; violet tones smooth over the sunset and bring the moon out with them, crescent-shaped and just barely perceptible. It almost doesn’t even seem like the moon, just a creamy blotch staining the sky. It isn’t fully out yet.

Soonyoung’s features seem to shift, too, with his lips pinched to one side while he bites the inside of his cheek. Jihoon just stares down at his lap and watches the way his hands fold neatly between his legs.

“I wish I could help you,” Soonyoung says softly, and Jihoon’s laugh comes out like a whisper.

“Don’t, it’s not your problem to worry about. You shouldn’t feel responsible for the well-being of someone you barely know, anyway.”

Soonyoung goes quiet at that, and Jihoon gets the feeling there’s something he wants to say but won’t let out. Eventually, he goes, “I know, but I still feel bad knowing you have to deal with this shit. It sucks.”

“Yeah, it does suck. But I’ll live - fuck, I’m lucky for that, even. I could’ve died in that accident.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” It sounds so sincere, the way he says it, so heartfelt. Like he really, truly cares about Jihoon and what happens - or could have happened - to him. Something about it makes Jihoon feel horribly exposed, and when he speaks, his voice sounds like the torn edge of a piece of paper.

“It’s sort of weird to think about. Like, I got it good, you know? I made it out alive. But getting it good also means that I have to deal with amnesia for the rest of my life, so.”

Jihoon tries not to dwell on the could be’s, he tries not to think of them at all - there’s something about knowing he could very well be six feet under the ground right now that makes him shiver; the question of whether or not he  _ wants _ to be is also something he tries to avoid. If he thinks too hard on it, he might come up with a definite answer, and it might not be such a nice one.

Jihoon, really, just tries not to think too much at all. It makes his life a lot easier if he doesn’t.

“You know,” Soonyoung says, “I don’t want to barely know you.”

“What do you want, then?”

“I dunno. Maybe we could - I mean, maybe we could get to know each other? Isolation can be pretty therapeutic sometimes, but too much of it can drive a person crazy.”

“You’ve been living like this for a month already,” Jihoon points out.

“Yeah, miraculously. Nobody can cut themselves off from the world completely and not suffer at least a little bit. We all need some company, now and then.”

Jihoon kind of wants to claw himself apart. He’s looking down at himself through a dirty lens, his skin feels tight and uncomfortable against the outside air. Soonyoung is basically asking to be his friend - Jihoon doesn’t want to make friends. If he wanted friends, he would’ve stayed in Seoul, where all of his are currently at. If he wanted friends, he wouldn’t have taken a train out to the loneliest place he could think of with the sole purpose of avoiding other people.

Soonyoung seems to read his hesitation.

“I know you like being all by yourself, but even when you think you are, you’re really not. Being alone just means you have more of a reason to get stuck in your own head, and all those thoughts bouncing around in there might as well be another person entirely, with how loud they can get.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you’ll make yourself insane if you don’t find a way to distract yourself from what’s going on up there,” Soonyoung says, tapping his forehead. “And, well. It’s pretty convenient to have a neighbor.”

So. Jihoon tries not to think too much at all. It makes his life easier if he doesn’t. He’s starting to realize he’s actually pretty bad at that. He nods, moving to stand.

“Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Soonyoung. Maybe we’ll have that coffee.”


	2. Chapter 2

**⍮**

**JIHOON CAN HARDLY ** recognize himself as real. He wants to be blank, spotless on the outside like nothing’s ever been wrong, completely dead on the inside. He supposes he is, really, but not nearly dead enough. He’s just stuck in this weird, translucent limbo; living, but not wholly.

It’s a tough day, and he has to remind himself that he’s had tough days before - even tougher days than this. His first few out of the hospital were practically hell, and he survived those. He just needs to stitch himself together and hope the thread holds for a little while longer.

“You’re kind of a dick.” Jihoon winces at the voice over the line.

“You know,” he says, “I called to take my mind off of things, but this isn’t really helping.”

“You left the fucking city to take your mind off of things, and you’re  _ still _ calling me. After three days and - what is it, forty-something missed calls? How many texts have I sent you, Jihoon? And you’re only getting back to me now? So you can  _ take your mind off of things _ . Give me a break.”

“Alright,” he says slowly, “I can see your point - “

“I’d fucking hope so - “

“ - and I get it, I’m an asshole, this whole thing was an asshole move on my part. But cut me some slack, Seungkwan, I’m a mess. I’ve  _ been _ a mess.”

Seungkwan goes quiet over the receiver, static crackling in the absence of his voice. Jihoon can just picture him glaring at his phone. Eventually, he says, “You had me worried, Jihoon. You had all of us worried.”

“I know,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry. But we’ll see each other again, I won’t stay out here forever.”

“What was the point of leaving, even? What were you hoping to accomplish? Like some epiphany was going to occur to you the second you left Seoul. Loneliness won’t cure your amnesia, Jihoon. I don’t think anything can.”

“You’re being a little harsh,” he says, and he hates how whiny he sounds.

“It’s something you need to hear. You’ve been searching for answers and looking up every possible solution, but there’s no such thing. The sooner you come to terms with that, the sooner you’ll stop suffering … and I really do hate to see you like this.”

Seungkwan’s tone turns soft at the end, a little more vulnerable. Jihoon has to remind himself that he isn’t trying to be hurtful, he’s just blunt, and whatever bitchy tone or sense of exasperation radiated from him is entirely unintentional. Seungkwan only wants to help, he only cares.

Jihoon laughs, and it sounds unconvincing even to himself. “Could you care about me a little more nicely? I’ve been sensitive.” Seungkwan sighs.

“Look I - I mean, this just feels a little hopeless, doesn’t it? You’re a good friend, you mean a lot to me, and it hurts to see you running around like this when there’s no point to it. I just want to see you happy again.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“It’s not easy, I know that, but you’re making things more difficult for yourself. Just come home, Jihoon.”

“You just hate not being able to keep tabs on me, like - like I’m gonna drown myself in the lake if you’re not here to watch over me 24/7. Yes, alright, I’m not okay, life fucking sucks. But I didn’t come out here to do some dumb shit that I could’ve just as easily done back home.” Seungkwan goes quiet, and the only thing Jihoon can hear then is the sound of his breathing.

“Give me a month,” he says after a while. “We’ll see how happy I’m feeling when I get back.”

He hears a click when the call ends, and he sighs, leaning further back into his seat and stretching his legs out in front of him. There’s this chair that’s always been out here on the deck, hovering above the floorboards and hung up by some tough rope tied to the roof, and Jihoon can feel himself swinging gently. The sun feels so close, kissing his knees and bringing something sharp to the back of his eyes, and for a moment he’s not sure what it is, but then he feels the wetness on his cheeks and he realizes.

“You know,” he hears a voice, and jolts upright to face Soonyoung, standing idly on the deck. “When you cry, the tears kind of get caught on your eyelashes, and it’s sort of pretty.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jihoon inhales sharply and swipes at his eyes. “Typically, you’re not supposed to walk up on someone when they’re - when they’re like this. Don’t you know that?” Soonyoung makes his way over with a mug in each hand and a plate of cookies balanced on one arm, wobbling and trying to keep things from falling.

“I know,” he says, and his tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth while he tries to slide the plate onto the little side table next to Jihoon, “but I just thought I should let you know. You look like you’re in a movie.”

“I don’t - “ Jihoon cuts himself off to take a breath, and it shakes despite himself. “I mean, some shitty movie.”

“Beautiful main actor though, I’ll say that.”

It takes him a moment to actually understand what Soonyoung is saying - for a minute he just stares at him, confused with his mouth half-open like an idiot - but when it hits him, he wants to die. Like, he’s embarrassed and flustered and wishes the ground would swallow him up right now, that type of thing. He can feel the skin right under his eyes going hot and sees Soonyoung’s lips curling into a smile, and he coughs.

“Right, whatever.”

“Beautiful,” Soonyoung repeats, quietly and under his breath. He groans a little when he lowers himself down to the floorboards, crouching with his arms resting on his knees and his head tilted up to look at Jihoon. “Cookies are for you. I mean, we can share them, but I brought them … uh, for you.”

Jihoon glances at the plate and snorts, trying to ignore the way his eyes are still burning a little. He doesn’t want to rub them. “You make them yourself?”

“Nah, my sister visited the other week and brought them down for me. I never finished them, though.”

“You have a sister?”

Soonyoung looks at him, then, too long and too hard, and Jihoon rolls his shoulders like he’s trying to shrug off the discomfort. Soonyoung just keeps staring. He gets this look in his eyes, this cloudy film over them that seems to dull the color and make it that much harder to figure out what he’s thinking.

“Yeah,” he says finally, and he has to clear the hoarseness out of his throat before continuing. “Yeah, I do. Older than me. I think my parents figured out that I just want to be on my own for a bit, but she still visits every now and then … she worries, I think.”

“Oh. But that’s sweet, isn’t it? I don’t have any siblings.”

“Who was that on the phone, then?”

“My friend.” Soonyoung nods and does a silent sort of  _ ah _ , not actually looking all that surprised.

“Do I need to kick your friend’s ass?” he asks, and Jihoon laughs. It’s genuine, partly because he wasn’t expecting Soonyoung to say that but still wholly amused, and it feels nice. That pit in his stomach seems to lighten up a little, warm.

“No, no need. He just, ah … I dunno. They’re all a little upset - really upset, actually, and like, rightfully so. I kind of fucked up.” He tells Soonyoung what it is he did, runs through the story with as few words as possible; he’s tired of it, already.

“They’re worried,” he tacks on at the end, “and they have every reason to be, but it’s still irritating. Like, please, just stop thinking about me. For a little while, I just want them all to forget about me and let me sort out my own shit.”

Soonyoung doesn’t answer right away, but it doesn’t seem like he’s thinking anything out - it just takes him some time to chew and swallow the whole cookie he shoved into his mouth while Jihoon was talking.

“You know,” he says, eventually, “I don’t think this is the sort of thing you can fix on your own. I don’t think you can fix this at all.”

“That’s what Seungkwan said.”

“Well, will you listen better if it’s coming from me?” Soonyoung hits his shin lightly, smiling small. “I think you need at least one person by your side right now, yeah? Being totally alone won’t make you feel better, and maybe since - er - “ he stammers a little “ - I mean, maybe since we don’t really know each other it’ll - it’ll help. No past history, no emotional ties, none of that.”

Jihoon can feel the mug between his hands cooling, and he holds it so tightly that for just a moment, he can almost picture the ceramic breaking, picture the coffee spilling out onto the floor and the lines on his palms turning red. There’s no point in even trying to steady his breathing.

“I feel like I’ve run over this a million times already,” he says. “I don’t want friends. I don’t want company. I didn’t plan on meeting anyone at all, I didn’t want that.” He levels his gaze with Soonyoung’s, feeling like they’re at two opposite poles and shaking with the space between them. “But,” he sighs, “you might be right. No emotional ties. None of that.”

Soonyoung, softly, “Just me.”

“Just you.”

—

“So,” Jihoon says, situating himself on the sofa, “why did you come out here?”

The morning chill had stuck around later than usual, so Jihoon suggested that they go inside. He hasn’t moved things from the way his mother had them arranged the last time they came, too many cushions piled up and pressed against each other and an overabundance of blankets. He opened a window to let a little air in and they made themselves comfortable around the coffee table. Soonyoung coughs.

“I told you. Same as you.”

“No, you told me you were overwhelmed where you were at. You didn’t tell me  _ why _ you felt overwhelmed.” Soonyoung just kind of sits there, knees pulled up to his chest and tucked under his chin. He sets his mug down and Jihoon can see his fingers shaking a little when he pulls his arm back, sighing.

“It’s a lot less intense than your story.”

“That’s okay. Fuck, for once I’d like to listen to something that isn’t about illness and my brain being fucked up.”

“Okay, well, um. I had a pretty rough breakup. We were together for like, two years … and then, poof. All gone. I took it pretty badly.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“Yeah.”

It’s only one word -  _ yeah _ \- but it comes out like it’s barely even there, like half his voice decided to disappear and only some outline of the word was able to make it out. It sounds broken, almost, and Jihoon’s chest aches.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Actually, it’s not, not really. But it’ll be okay.”

Jihoon almost asks, is right at the edge of saying it -  _ what happened to you two?  _ \- but it’s not an ounce of his business and he knows better than to say anything.

Soonyoung, though, seems to read the look on his face. He says, “It was so dumb. So, so fucking dumb. Because we were both so fucking stubborn and - and neither one of us could settle for compromise where compromise was possible, and - fuck.  _ Fuck _ .” Jihoon can’t help himself.

“What was it about?”

Soonyoung lets out an exasperated breath and runs both his hands through his hair, looking more desolate than Jihoon ever thought someone like him could. “Stupid,” he says shortly. “One minute it was just,  _ I don’t like the idea of you working abroad, _ and the next it was,  _ why don’t you ever support me? _ And then before I knew it he was walking out the door and I never - I never saw him again.”

Something about that touches Jihoon weirdly, like the feeling he gets when he’s trying to think of a word, and it’s just on the tip of his tongue; like there’s a memory he knows should be triggered right now, and he’s trying so, so hard to grasp at it.

He’s quiet for some time, and then - “Ah, I think - I think I was going to do something like that, before my accident. Work abroad. My mom was telling me that I had plans to go - somewhere, I don’t know exactly, someplace in Europe. I don’t know why she told me that. Kind of just made me feel worse, honestly.”

There’s a shadow of amusement that flitters across Soonyoung’s face, but Jihoon can’t think of a single thing that’s funny about that - until, “Oh, fuck,” he says. “Sorry. This isn’t about me.”

“You know, it’s like he doesn’t even remember me anymore.”

Silence, just leaves rustling outside the window and the distant sound of ducks swimming in the lake. Soonyoung sips his coffee and looks up like there’s something to see, right up on the ceiling. Jihoon doesn’t bother glancing.

“Being alone in that city felt worse than being alone out here. Or, that’s what I thought. I never really started feeling better.”

“And this was a month ago?”

“Yeah, just about.”

A month ago. Jihoon seems to forget that there are other lives outside of his, that there was more shit happening outside the walls of that hospital. He can see Soonyoung trying to look more okay than he really is, and he can hear the tremor in his voice giving him away entirely.

“Can I say something? It’s going to sound so shitty, I know it, but sometimes I wish I could forget him the way he forgot me. I wish I could forget all of it.”

“Yeah,” Jihoon whispers, breaking his stare and reaching for a cookie. “That does sound shitty, but I get what you mean. I’m sorry.” There’s a short laugh on Soonyoung’s end, though it sounds more bitter than sweet.

“It’s not your fault … none of it is.”

Soonyoung has a way of looking at him and speaking to him more sincerely than he thinks anyone else ever has. Almost, Jihoon muses, like there’s something a little more to all of this.

Except there isn’t. It’s just Soonyoung.

—

Jihoon has always had pretty tough resolve, he thinks, but Soonyoung barged into his life completely unannounced and managed to bulldoze it completely. There is no more resolve, none of that  _ I just want to be alone  _ bullshit - he finds that he quite likes Soonyoung’s company, actually.

He likes it so much, in fact, that he settles his mind on keeping it all to himself. He doesn’t want to share even the idea of Soonyoung’s presence with anyone else, because opening Soonyoung up to the rest of the world almost feels like opening himself up, all over again, and he doesn’t want that. He’s happy with this little bubble he’s gotten himself stuck in.

Happy like, Soonyoung starts coming over every morning with coffee and cookies, even though Jihoon has a perfectly good coffee maker, and they talk from one end of the room to the other. There’s this small hill leading down from the back of Jihoon’s house to the lake, and instead of sitting out on the dock sometimes the two of them will grab a blanket and just lay out in the grass. The weather lightens, the sun is white during the day but cool, like it’s made out of tile and not fire. Jihoon gets those white fluffy dandelion seeds stuck to his palms and Soonyoung unsticks them for him. Soonyoung  _ listens _ to him.

Jihoon tells him that he’s sad he can never remember his own dreams, so Soonyoung starts sharing his. Jihoon tells him that he thinks life gets dull without things to remember, and Soonyoung says  _ no, there are flowers and sunshine, cold water, the color of your own eyes. You don’t need to remember those things. They just are.  _ Soonyoung makes him feel like things are alright for a little while.

So, when he’s on the phone - with his mother, or Seungkwan, or whoever the hell it might be - and they ask him how he is, if the change in scenery is actually helping and he’s feeling any better, he says yes, but he doesn’t mention Soonyoung. He says he feels like he can breathe while he’s out here. He tells them that things don’t seem so bad when you’re so far away from them. But they don’t hear a word about Soonyoung.

“It’s so strange,” Jihoon tells him. “If I believed in like - I dunno, some sort of past life, I guess, I’d say we’ve probably met before.” With the grass between their faces, green blades blurring in front of his eyes, Jihoon can just make out Soonyoung’s smile.

“In a past life?”

“Something like that. Like - familiar, sort of? Not you, just your energy.”

“My energy,” Soonyoung repeats.

“Yeah. Your face doesn’t - I’ve never seen you before, but just being around you, the way it feels … You’re kind of like a song? Like something I used to hear when I was little, and I forgot I knew it ‘till now. I’m hearing it again.”

Soonyoung never responds to that. Jihoon flushes at first, embarrassed and feeling like he must’ve crossed some sort of boundary, but then Soonyoung asks, “Have you ever been in love?” and he forgets all about being embarrassed.

He stammers, “I - I mean, well. I must have. I’m sure I have. I don’t, er … I don’t remember it. But I must have, at one point or another.” Soonyoung stares at him for a moment, and Jihoon chews his lip, feeling insecure all of a sudden - but then the boy turns his head suddenly so that he’s staring up at the clouds, and there’s a bit of pink and some markings where the ground was pressing into his cheek. He sighs.

“Well, whoever it was you were in love with, they were real lucky.”

“You think so?”

“Definitely.”

Jihoon blushes then, but he’s not embarrassed, this time. It’s a warm sort of feeling, spreading from the corners of his eyes down his neck, his chest, warming his heart and the whole inside of his ribcage.

“For what it’s worth,” he says, working up his nerve, “I think they were real lucky, too, that person you used to date. And they’re really unlucky to have lost you.”

He gets those dandelion seeds stuck to his palm again, but Soonyoung settles for holding his hand, this time, rather than unsticking them. Jihoon decides that he doesn’t mind it at all.


	3. Chapter 3

**⍮**

**A WEEK OR ** two quickly turns into something much more, red lines marking the calendar and slipping from April into May. Jihoon doesn’t even realize it until his mother mentions it on the phone.

“You said a week or two, remember?”

Jihoon sighs, “Yes, I remember.”

“You also said you’d call me every day.”

“I  _ know _ , and I’m sorry about that - really, Mom, I am. I just - “ he sighs again, ruffling his hair and bringing his hand down to swipe at his face “ - I’m really liking it out here, okay? And I’m sorry I haven’t been calling like I said I would, I promise I’ll start doing that. But I’m an adult, yeah? I can stay out here as long as I like. I just hate to think of you worrying.”

“I  _ am _ worrying.” Her voice sounds grainy, but he can still hear every thread of concern poking out of it. He cringes inwardly, guilty.

“I mean it when I say I’m doing better out here.”

“I believe you, baby, but you have to understand - you need to come home, eventually. You may like it there but you can’t spend the rest of your life in that little cottage. You have friends out here, your family, your  _ job _ . Everything’s waiting for you.”

Jihoon can feel his breathing getting shorter, quick inhales feeling like nothing in his lungs, like there isn’t any air left for him to swallow. His head hurts and he can feel his heartbeat at his temples, pulsing.  _ Everything’s waiting for you _ . He knew that, deep down he had to have known that, but it’s the first time he’s heard it so bluntly. Everything’s out there, in the city. As much as he may like it where he’s at, he can’t stay forever. He shudders.

“Everything can wait a little longer. I’m not ready yet.”

“I know, I know … Just call me, okay? I’ll feel better if I can hear your voice a little more often. I love you.”

Jihoon assures her that yes, he’ll make a point to call more often, and  _ I love you too _ … before hanging up. The room fills up with oxygen once more, he can breathe again; he needs to stop doing that, reacting so badly to every minor inconvenience. Things will only get worse if he doesn’t learn how to get himself under control - he can practically picture himself fainting on the first day back at work.

He can picture himself, a day into the city and feeling like a stranger wrapped in familiarity. There’s a panic in his chest every time he so much as thinks about it.

So, he doesn’t. He doesn’t think about it.

—

Soonyoung is playing with Jihoon’s hair, angling his arm sort of weirdly to accommodate the way he’s sitting and twirling a dark strand around his finger. They’re sitting on the swing chair in Soonyoung’s yard and not saying anything, just watching the clouds.

Somehow, Jihoon ended up with his head resting on Soonyoung’s shoulder. Soft, soft, the feeling is soft. Cotton shirts against bare arms and the sun on his cheeks, a bumblebee floating in and out of the corner of his eye. Soft, except for the nagging feeling in his chest. Not thinking about it hasn’t been working so well.

“How can I say it?” Jihoon asks, and his voice sounds rough after having not been used for a while.

“Say what?”

“That I  _ need _ to be alone. That I’m - I’m tired, and no matter how much sleep I get I’ll always be tired, and I can’t keep smiling at people and I can’t keep talking to people and I can’t - I can’t be near them. And it isn’t their fault,” he adds, getting quieter. “It isn’t. I love them, but I need to be alone.”

Soonyoung doesn’t say anything right away, but Jihoon can feel him looking at the top of his head. He gets to wondering how they ended up like this - so affectionate so fast. Something about the boy just draws Jihoon in, and it doesn’t matter how he felt a month ago. He was so averse to affection then, but now he craves it. Only from Soonyoung, though. How’d that happen?

_ Say something, say something _ , he thinks.  _ Comfort me. You’re the only person I’ll take it from. _

They’ve known each other for such a short amount of time, but Soonyoung makes Jihoon comfortable. Soonyoung knows his ins and outs and doesn’t mind when Jihoon grabs his hand, or his face, or -

“They know you love them,” Soonyoung says. “They’re not guilty, they’re worried.”

Jihoon ignores that, saying, “Maybe I could live out here for the rest of my life.” Soonyoung snorts. “What? I could. I have everything here.”

“No, you don’t. You have everything  _ there _ . Your - “

“My family, my friends, my job - I  _ know _ . I’ve heard all that already.”

Soonyoung’s hand stills for a moment, before he brings it down to rest against Jihoon’s cheek. “I’m not trying to lecture you,” he says softly, “and I want you to stay out here as long as you need. But you have to go back, at some point. That would be the best for you.”

_ Why can’t I just stay with you? _ he wants to ask, but even just thinking that feels embarrassing. He flushes.

“Thanks,” he says instead. “For … I dunno. For everything. You keep me from losing my mind.” He turns his head so that he meets Soonyoung’s eyes, and the look between them is odd. They look at each other like they’re about to kiss, and Jihoon wants to.

But he doesn’t. He’s not sure why, but he doesn’t kiss Soonyoung.

—

This has happened a few times, now, where Jihoon wakes up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, and nothing feels familiar. He’s wondering where he is, grabbing at the bedsheets and wondering who they belong to, why is he alone,  _ who am I?  _ He’s so far from memory and so desperate to get it back that he loses himself in panic, gets so swept up in the anxiety of  _ not knowing _ that he can barely recall his own name.

It’s happened a few times, and every time he’s had to calm himself down enough to breathe and think  _ oh, I remember.  _ He’s never had anyone else to do it for him. He’s always alone.

But Soonyoung is in his bed tonight, and the first thing Jihoon thinks when he shoots up is  _ who is this person next to me, why is he here, what is he doing - will he hurt me, what if he hurts me?  _ and he’s whispering these questions to himself, over and over again in a flurry of nerves and half-choked syllables, and he can hardly move, he’s so scared - and then he hears it. Soft and consoling and murmured against his cheek, so he almost thinks he’s saying it himself.

“It’s me, it’s Soonyoung.”

_ Who am I? _ Jihoon can’t be sure if he asked out loud or only in his head - he isn’t really sure of anything.

“You’re Jihoon,” Soonyoung says, and he’s still speaking so softly. Jihoon’s bones go still, settling inside his body and aching from tension. His breath shakes.

“I’m Jihoon,” he repeats. Soonyoung nods. “Tell - Tell me more, what else?”

“You’re twenty-three years old and living in Seoul, but you’ve been staying in a cottage by the lake for the last few weeks. You’re smart. You’re hardworking. You love to read and sing, and you like to sing while you play the piano, and you do both those things so well. You’re kind to me and you make me laugh every day. You’re the most interesting person I know. Everyone you’ve ever met has loved you.” Soonyoung pauses to wrap an arm around Jihoon’s shoulders, pulling him in impossibly close.

“You were hurt, and you survived it. You’re still the same old you.”

Jihoon’s breathing is heavy, and he stares down at the dull outline of his fists in the dark, clenched in his lap. He says, “You’re Soonyoung,” and Soonyoung hums.

“Yes. I’m Soonyoung. And I love you. I’ll always be here for you.”

Soonyoung gently pushes Jihoon back so he’s laying down again, tugging the blanket up to his chin and pushing the hair out of his eyes. His hand rests against Jihoon’s forehead for a moment, before he moves it and leans down to press a kiss there, instead, and Jihoon doesn’t question it. He doesn’t question a thing.

It isn’t until later, when he’s sure Soonyoung’s dozed off again and his mind has finally settled into a state of calm, that it hits him.

He never told Soonyoung about singing, or playing the piano. Soonyoung’s never met any of the other people in Jihoon’s life. Jihoon hasn’t picked up a book in weeks. Soonyoung never got to meet  _ the same old him. _ Jihoon hasn’t told him half those things.

But Soonyoung loves him, apparently, and something about that feels right.

—

“How did you know?” Jihoon asks him in the morning. His knuckles are white against the kitchen counter and there’s the smell of coffee hanging in the air, the sharp hissing sound the machine makes while the water heats up.

“Know what?”

“That stuff you said last night. I don’t talk about piano anymore, I haven’t played in ages. I don’t do a lot of the things I used to, but somehow you knew about them.”

Soonyoung just stares at him, and Jihoon knows his own eyes are cold and calculating and the total opposite of everything he’s ever wanted Soonyoung to know, but he can’t help it. Something’s shifted in his stomach, and it feels weird. Like he’s missing part of the picture.

“I want to be with you always,” is what Soonyoung says. “I never want to go without you.” He takes a step toward Jihoon, slow, like moving too fast might scare the latter off, and reaches out a little. Jihoon lets him pull him into his chest.

“And when I say I never want to go without you,” he continues, “I mean that I never want to go without you again. Not again.”

Again, again -  _ what does that mean? _ Jihoon’s head hurts.

“You love me,” he says, because it’s all he can think to say. Soonyoung speaks under his breath.

“Yeah. I love you.”

He sounds like he means it. Jihoon doesn’t say it back.

—

They don’t talk about it again, love. They hold each other’s hands and faces, gazes, skin on skin and feet pressed against thighs under blankets - but not love, no, they don’t talk about it. If Soonyoung’s embarrassed, Jihoon can’t tell, but he’s seemed to figure out that it isn’t a safe subject to broach.

And that’s what they do, isn’t it? Keep things safe.

Sometimes it comes up, like a thin piece of paper hiding behind words, but not obvious enough for either of them to acknowledge. Soonyoung will say something and Jihoon will sense it, just there, defiant and horrible. He’s scared of it. Jihoon doesn’t know  _ love _ . He doesn’t know how to find it in someone he’s known for so little time.

Like when Jihoon says, “I’m just so sad, and tired,” and he expects comfort to come like it always does, but Soonyoung just looks at him and sighs.

“What do you want me to say, Jihoon? I can’t save you. I wish I could, but I can’t. People don’t save other people.” Jihoon blinks.

“That’s a little morbid.”

“It’s true.”

“I don’t think it is.”

Soonyoung looks tired, Jihoon notices, like he’s been losing sleep. But they’ve been sharing the same bed every night for a while now, and he’s never been restless. He’s got rings around his eyes and the kind of sheen that looks like color and grey at the same time. Like his energy can’t figure out if it wants to be happy or not.

“Nobody will fix you,” he says, and the words sound bland. “This isn’t some poetic bullshit where you’re all broken and someone’s gonna come along and make everything better. Nobody will compliment your scars and lie with you and suck all the bad out of your life. I tried that, and it didn’t take me long to figure out that you gotta be your own fucking hero.”

Jihoon is trying to understand where all of this is coming from, because he’s rarely seen Soonyoung in this type of mood, and he’s assuming this is about his ex. There are a few things he thinks to say:

_ No, you’re wrong, you have it wrong. People can make things better.  _ You  _ made things better. For me, you made me better. _

_ You laid with me and sucked out the bad, I am not fixed but I’m less broken than I was before. _

_ If being your own fucking hero meant running away from your old life and turning into a recluse, congratulations, I can see that really worked for you.  _ That thought comes out more bitter than the others. He frowns when he remembers that he actually tried doing the same thing.

There are a few things he thinks to say, but he doesn’t say any of them. What he says is, “I’m not looking for someone to fix me, but a savior can be more than one person.” They drop the subject after that.

Later that day, though, Soonyoung says, “I’m sorry about that. I’ve just been in a weird mood,” and Jihoon nods like it’s okay.

“I’m sorry I expect so much from you.”

“I’m sorry I can’t reach those expectations.”

Jihoon moves without thinking about it, holding his palm against Soonyoung’s chest and counting his heartbeats. “No,” he says, “not that. Don’t be sorry about that.”

Soonyoung swallows, and that’s it.

—

He’s so courageous, Soonyoung. He’s so unafraid of judgment and things unknown. Jihoon remembers him, unwavering and approaching on his first day out of the city, determined to get to know him. Jihoon remembers shoulders pushed back and a smile that looks like it’s never seen sadness, and then he thinks of Soonyoung’s quieter moments, when the smile slips a little and he curls into himself. It’s a bitter reminder that nobody has it perfect, even if they’re perfect themselves.

“I’m not perfect.”

“You are to me,” Jihoon insists. “You’re not perfect-perfect, but you’re Soonyoung-perfect. No one else does it like you.”

Soonyoung honeys in the dusk, glowing golden-like and pretty with his legs crossed in the grass, and Jihoon just wants him back. It’s been almost three months, now, and somewhere along the way something in him changed. Jihoon almost thinks it’s his fault. The longer they’ve spent together, the worse Soonyoung’s gotten. But Jihoon’s only improved.

His mother wants him home. Three months is too long, she says, and Jihoon believes her, but he doesn’t want to. He knows this is getting ridiculous. He  _ knows _ . But he can’t go. Would things be better if he did?

“When I look at you,” he says, “the world seems a little nicer. But I feel like it doesn’t go the other way.”

“What do you mean?”

“Something’s wrong. You won’t tell me what it is, but you’re so bad at hiding it. You seem … sadder.”

“Oh, God, trust me. I’m better with you around.”

“Are you, really?”

“Yeah. You don’t know how bad it was before you came back - er, along. I think I - “ he starts, but then he stops himself, biting down on his lip. Jihoon nudges him with his foot. “I shouldn’t say this. You’ll hate me.”

“I won’t.”

“You will.”

“Say it, and I’ll prove it to you. I won’t hate you.”

Soonyoung looks at Jihoon like he’s got  _ caution _ written in big, bold letters across his face. He looks like he regrets everything before he’s even said it.

“It’s easier being around you, because … because you have more issues than me, and when I’m with you I don’t need to think of mine. I can focus on you and I can - I can take  _ care _ of you instead of myself, and that’s good, because every time I have to take care of myself I’m just reminded of what a mess I am. I love you,” he says it a second time, and Jihoon almost winces. “I love you for you, and for the fact that you make me feel less like I’m falling apart.”

After a long, long pause, Jihoon says, “I told you, didn’t I? That I wouldn’t hate you. I don’t.” 

“Doesn’t that sound awful, though?”

“ … You know, I actually forget just how much is wrong with me when we’re together. I can’t be mad at you when that’s the truth.”

Jihoon almost says it -  _ while we’re at it, I have something to say, too …  _ but he knows that wouldn’t end well, so he keeps his mouth shut.

Part of Jihoon believes the reason he fell for Soonyoung so fast was pure dependency, being so desperate to believe he was better off alone and then getting addicted to one person when he realized he wasn’t. There’s something ancient between them, like they must’ve known each other in a past life, Jihoon can feel it - but combine that with the fact that he was unknowingly starving himself of affection, and he’s  _ hooked _ . They’re the only two people giving up company. Soonyoung’s beautiful and interesting and touches Jihoon’s heart in a way he can’t remember anyone else doing, and he’s the only person Jihoon  _ has _ . Getting attached was almost the only option.

But he can’t say that, because that sounds hollow. That sounds like  _ I don’t really care about you, I’m just desperate _ . The truth is that Jihoon cares about Soonyoung  _ and _ he’s desperate.

But then, that makes him wonder -

“Do you love me because you’re desperate?”

“What?”

_ Good one, Jihoon _ . He should’ve thought that through.

“No, I just mean - because - uh, nevermind. Forget it.”

“Do I love you because I got dumped?” Soonyoung fills in the blanks, and he says it like he’s accusing Jihoon of something. “Because I got left in the dirt and now I’m willing to take whatever I can get? Jesus, Jihoon. No. Why would you even think that?” Jihoon feels small. He shrugs.

“I love you because I - I just do. I never stopped. But that doesn’t matter, right? Because you did.”

Soonyoung does this thing where he shakes his head a little and swears at himself, tucking his hands between his legs and looking guilty, like he just did something he shouldn’t have. Jihoon doesn’t get it.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“ … Nothing. I’m just dumb and I - I say things without making sense, sometimes. I don’t even know what I was getting at.”

He still looks upset with himself, so Jihoon moves until his body is spread out in the grass and his skin feels cool from the dew, and he rests his head on Soonyoung’s thigh. “That’s okay,” he says simply. “I’ll drop it. And I’m sorry I asked such a stupid question.”

“Wasn’t stupid,” Soonyoung mumbles. “Just … yeah. I get it.”

“I don’t know how to love someone as fast as you,” Jihoon admits, “but for what it’s worth, I think I’m going to love you, one day. It won’t be desperate. It’ll just be you.”

When he looks up, he can see the familiar pull of Soonyoung’s face, the small smile gracing it, and his heart smiles back.

One day, he thinks.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2nd to last chapter !!! i hope you've been liking this so far <3<3

**⍮**

**WHEN JIHOON TAPS ** his collarbone, it makes a dull sort of sound, a muted  _ thump, thump, thump _ where his fingers hit it. If he hits it hard and long enough, it starts to ache a little, and Soonyoung grabs his hand and moves it away.

If you asked him, Jihoon wouldn’t be able to tell you where this is going. He can’t even say how it began. He just knows where he is right now, with the grass turning the back of his shirt damp and his fingers locked loosely with Soonyoung’s. He knows his head doesn’t hurt so much anymore. He knows his heart is a lot happier, lately. Maybe he had a few drinks, and he just can’t remember them. Maybe it’s just the moonlight screwing with his sobriety. Either way, Soonyoung’s a part of it, and that’s doing something to him.

He wishes he could make sense of it, relay it so that someone could understand - but he can’t even understand it himself. He can’t say what’s happening inside him. He doesn’t know it.

“It’s kind of romantic, isn’t it?” Soonyoung starts, and it takes Jihoon a moment to realize he’s speaking. “How we met. Next to the water, both kind of lonely. Like something out of a book.” Jihoon nods, feeling his chest grow warm.

“I’ll have to go back though,” he says, despite the warmth. “I wish I could stay forever, but you’ve told me yourself. There’s a whole other part to my life, and it doesn’t care about romanticism. It doesn’t care about us.”

Soonyoung grabs for Jihoon’s hand, squeezing his fingers tight, and he says, “I know. I care about us, though. This won’t be it. Remember, I came out here to get away from things just the same as you did. I still have things to get back to.”

Jihoon feels like he’s found his own little pocket of the world out here. In a home that only sort of belongs to him, enveloped in arms that could be his; with his head under the lake water and watching the world in fractured light, or when he’s making his way down the road to that little market square to buy groceries. It’s something entirely separate from everything else, a slice of something pretty cut out from the overall picture of life and pasted somewhere else, on its own.  _ Things to get back to _ don’t sound like awfully exciting things, but the idea of still being with Soonyoung makes him feel lighter.

“You know I’m crazy for you,” Soonyoung whispers, and Jihoon squeezes his hand back.

“I know.”

“It’s like - like I was totally still, for a real long time, but then you came along and shook me up completely. Like when the wind hits the trees. You are the most wonderful, delicate person I’ve ever met, and that still isn’t enough to describe what I think you are. There aren’t words big enough for that.”

Jihoon is never sure of what to say when Soonyoung tells him these things, he’s never been very good at conveying his feelings like that- but he can try, right? Because trying matters, and Soonyoung would understand.

“When I see you,” he starts, and his voice sounds rough, “it’s like … like nothing else. It’s hard for me to relate present experiences to past ones because I - because, you know. I don’t remember them. But when I see you, I am  _ so sure _ that it’s not anything I’ve ever felt before. Like I’ve never seen another person, only you. And I see you first thing every morning and you look so lovely, and your voice is so sweet … and I feel like I’m being filled up. All the negative space that was killing me months ago just fills in with something so warm and it - it almost hurts.” He presses his other hand to his chest for emphasis. “Like it’s been so long since I haven’t felt empty, and my body doesn’t know what to do. I didn’t know people like you existed, who could do that … “ His voice goes awfully soft at the end, and he doesn’t think he can say anymore. He’s said all that he can think of. Anything else he might feel for Soonyoung isn’t meant to be put into words.

Soonyoung’s quiet for a long time, and there’s just the sound of the water shifting, grass blowing a little in the slight breeze. The couple glasses of champagne he drank earlier are going to his head and making the clouds move a little faster than he thinks they should be, but then Soonyoung starts talking, and he feels grounded again.

“Remember when you said you would love me one day?” Jihoon hums. “Do you think we’re getting close?”

“It’s hard to tell … I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. What’s it like?”

“Loving someone?”

“ _ Being in love _ with someone.”

Soonyoung seems to think about this a little while, and Jihoon watches his chest rise and fall slowly. He says, “You know, I don’t even like coffee all that much. But I invited you over for it the day we met, and then I kept inviting you over, and then I started making it for you every morning, and it’s not that my tastes changed. Most of the time, I couldn’t care less about the taste of it - but I liked having an excuse to see you, and I like the way you smile a little when you drink it. I like that sometimes when I hand you your mug, our fingers touch, and I want to hold them, I want to hold your hand - I want  _ you _ . I wanted to keep seeing you so I found a reason to, and I wanted to keep seeing you smile, so I made it happen. That’s kind of what love is like.”

The clouds move fast, rearranging themselves into heart shapes and pulsing in time with Jihoon’s heartbeat. He can feel the chill on his teeth, his mouth slightly open and the feeling of Soonyoung’s hand making his palm tickle.  _ That’s kind of what love is like _ . Oh, God, what’s he going to do with that?

“I think I love you,” he whispers, and Soonyoung looks at him amusedly. The air feels different, light as a dove and a little grey. When he breathes, it doesn’t touch his lungs. It goes straight to his head and turns him dizzy. “I love you,” he repeats. “God. I don’t know what to do.”

“There’s nothing to do,” Soonyoung assures him. “Love is - it’s a tricky thing,” he says it sheepishly, like he’s admitting something he doesn’t want to. “It’s wonderful, a lot, but there’s no one to answer for it. No force out there can explain what it is. And sometimes … sometimes that’s its downfall. You can’t figure it out, so you give it up.”

“I won’t,” Jihoon says, automatic. “I won’t give you up.”

He says that, and Soonyoung gives him a strange look; a sad sort of smile that looks like he doesn’t fully believe it. But all he does is lean over to kiss Jihoon’s cheek, and that’s enough for the moment.

—

Jihoon needs to learn that good things can’t last. That good things, like Soonyoung and how much he cares for him, how he’s cared for  _ by _ him - they don’t last. He finds himself disappointed time and time again, why doesn’t he just start to expect it?

Things seem fine for a little while, after that conversation. Jihoon starts to think that this is where his life gets good. This is where that stupid accident all those months ago will finally fade to unimportance and be replaced by something better, something happier.  _ But the world just can’t let him have that _ .

It happens that morning, when the two of them decide another trip to the market is due and Soonyoung’s freaking out a little because he can’t remember where he left his wallet. They’re both searching the different rooms in his house, and Jihoon is reassuring him that  _ it has to be here somewhere, things don’t just disappear  _ … when he finds it. Left in some inconspicuous corner of the bookshelf, probably because Soonyoung set it there and then got distracted with something else - Jihoon smiles at the thought; the boy could probably lose literal FBI files and Jihoon would still think it’s endearing.

He calls out saying that he found it and grabs the wallet so that it opens, one end caught between Jihoon’s fingers and the other dangling, and he notices a small photo tucked into one of the card slots - and he pauses.

Jihoon’s not nosy, but it’s a photo. He’s not taking down Soonyoung’s  _ credit card information _ \- it’s just a photo.

A photo which, when he takes a closer look, he doesn’t recall ever taking or seeing ever in his life - which is weird, right? Considering it’s one of him and Soonyoung both, the latter with both his arms wrapped around Jihoon’s shoulders and their cheeks pressed up against each other. It looks like one of those photobooth strips, but like one of the squares got torn off and this is it; the border of it is pink and decorated with hearts, and Jihoon’s organs feels like they’re all made of cement.

He looks up to find Soonyoung paused a few feet away, and he can feel the knot forming between his brows. “What’s this?” he asks, confused. “This is us. But we never took this?”

Soonyoung just stares at him for a really long time, and Jihoon starts trying to fill in the blanks himself, but it’s hard. “I probably forgot this, right, but why didn’t you tell me? It’s a cute photo … you look different in it.  _ I _ look different.” He looks happier, he notices. He’s got this light in his eyes that he can’t really recognize. He looks between the photo and Soonyoung again, and his jaw feels heavy. “This wasn’t taken recently, was it?”

“It depends on what you would consider recent … “ Soonyoung’s voice has a weird twinge to it. He sounds like a kid who just got caught lying to his mom, torn between panic and the logic of giving up. Without really thinking, Jihoon slides the photo out of the slot and turns it over to find a date printed in black, smeared ink. It reads a few weeks before the car accident,  _ at least _ .

“Wait, wait.” Jihoon’s thoughts get muddled and he rubs his eyes, looking back to Soonyoung for some reasonable explanation, but he doesn’t get anything other than the most helpless expression he thinks he’s ever seen.

“I don’t - I’m not sure what to tell you.”

“You could maybe explain - like, what this is? I don’t know if I’m just slow or dumb or - or what, but I’m having a hard time understanding - “

“That’s us,” Soonyoung says, like that isn’t obvious.

“No shit, it’s us. Like, months ago. Months before we even  _ met _ . How can there be a photo of us together when we didn’t even know each other, that’s what I’m asking.”

“We did know each other. We - We met a long time before it was taken.”

The ensuing silence is horrible. It’s stuffy and uncomfortable, and Soonyoung looks  _ so _ awkward, guilt written in red across his forehead and his hands hanging idly at his sides. Jihoon can’t see himself, but he guesses he looks like something caught between anger and total confusion. “What?”

“I - I mean - “

“No, I know what you mean. But  _ what _ . What, like, when did we meet?” Soonyoung doesn’t say anything, and Jihoon slowly puts the photo back in its place, closing the wallet and holding it tight in his hand. There’s a feeling like realization dawning on him, and his mind goes blank. White walls and empty rooms and suspicion, and the horrible fear that maybe that suspicion is right.

“Two years ago,” he supplies, because Soonyoung won’t. “We met two years ago? And we dated for a while and then we broke up, and then - and then, what? I get into the fucking accident and you decide to ghost me? Act like we’ve never met before when I run into you again? If there was ever a time to tell me I’m jumping to conclusions, this is it.  _ Please _ .”

But Soonyoung doesn’t tell him that. He doesn’t say anything, except, “I’m sorry,” and it comes out sounding shredded. Like someone took his words and ran them through a grinder.

“What were you  _ thinking _ , Soonyoung? What the hell?”

He’s trying to keep the hysteria out of his tone, out of his body, trying  _ so hard _ to look more angry and composed than lost - but he’s falling apart in a matter of seconds, him and his whole perfect world, and when he inhales, his breath shakes; when he goes to sit down, he almost collapses onto the sofa. “This isn’t real,” he says, covering his face. “Stuff like this doesn’t happen. This is ridiculous.”

Jihoon can hear this sad sort of choked sound get caught in Soonyoung’s throat, and it only makes him more upset. “The quieter you are, the worse you’re making things,” he says.

“Er, no, I don’t think that’s true, actually,” Soonyoung finally speaks up. “I’m pretty sure anything I say from this point on will only piss you off more - and - and you have every right to be. I fucked up.”

“At least tell me  _ why _ .”

Soonyoung moves to sit on the opposite end of the couch, and Jihoon shifts his head so that he can see him just slightly. His face is red, his mouth caught open and eyes totally struck. He blinks, and then, “I just thought that maybe we could start over. Meeting you here was the first time I’d seen you since - since you left me. I thought that maybe if … if we started from scratch, we could do things right, this time.”

“And, what? You’d just live with the knowledge that you’d been lying to me the whole time? That’s a terrible plan, Soonyoung.”

“Well I  _ got _ that,” he sounds exasperated. “I figured it out not even three days after we started talking, that I was being a complete dumbass - but I was in too deep, at that point.”

“No, you idiot,  _ now _ you’re in too deep. Now, after everything we’ve done and everything we’ve said, now that I’m fucking  _ in love with you _ \- you should’ve said something weeks ago, asshole.” He pauses. “Holy fuck, this is real.”

“This is real.”

“Shit like this doesn’t just  _ happen _ in real life, what the fuck? What the fuck. Oh my God.”

He knew Soonyoung,  _ for over two years _ . And he doesn’t want to believe it, but it sort of makes sense. That stupid  _ connection _ . Feeling like they must have met before, like they clicked too well for it not to be some sort of fate. “All that weird shit you were saying,” he says. “I didn’t know what to think of it, so I didn’t. But I get it, now.”

He’s at odds with himself, heart and mind tearing each other apart. Soonyoung lied to him, he led Jihoon to believe in something that wasn’t real - but  _ he’s  _ real, Soonyoung himself. The fact that, at the end of the day, Jihoon is still very much in love with him. That’s real.

“I know I should be done with you after this,” he says, bitter, “but I’m not. I care about you too much. Fuck you for doing that. You couldn’t just let me go, could you?”

“Oh, please, you do not  _ know _ what it was  _ like _ .” Soonyoung’s tone turns cold all of a sudden, and it catches Jihoon off guard.

“I loved you so much, Jihoon, and you fucking  _ left _ me. You don’t know how bad that hurt. You don’t know how hard I tried to get over you, to the point that I left my fucking home to come out here and be alone, because being in the same goddamn  _ city _ as you was too much for me to handle. Yes, okay, what I did was wrong and I deserve whatever I get for it - but do  _ not _ come at me with that kind of bullshit.” Jihoon raises his head properly to look at him, and his heart stops in his chest. Soonyoung looks broken, almost, hurt coloring his eyes cold.

“You came back to me when I was sure that it was all over, and I thought the way an idiot would, because I still loved you. Because I was  _ still _ hoping that it would be me and you in the end. You don’t know what that was like.”

Jihoon feels cold, the wallet still weighing in his hand like a block of ice. He sighs so deep he thinks his whole chest comes close to falling in on itself. “I guess we have a lot to work on.” Soonyoung snorts.

“Yeah, what else is new?”

“I’m sorry for saying that.”

“God, don’t be sorry for anything. It’s just … it’s me. This is my fault.”

Part of Jihoon wants to say  _ no, no, it’s okay, I understand why you did it, it’s okay  _ \- but he knows it isn’t. It isn’t okay. He loves Soonyoung so much, and maybe he’ll find it in him to forgive him, but that doesn’t make what happened okay.

Instead, he asks, “Did I really accuse you of not supporting me? Is that why I broke up with you?” Soonyoung tries to laugh a little, but it comes out sounding like a hard shudder. 

“You know, you never even explicitly said that we were breaking up. It was just this whole thing about you leaving for work and I - I didn’t want you to go, because I hate being without you, and you got so upset you just - left. Slammed the door on your way out, and that was it.”

“We didn’t speak again?”

“You actually, uh.” Soonyoung clears his throat. “You were on your way back - wherever, I don’t know where you were going - when that car hit you. So, no. We didn’t speak again. Your mom called once to tell me what happened and I told her I didn’t want to be a part of it … I figured it would just be more stress on you to have me in your life.”

“Jesus. I’m sorry I was such a dick about it. You not wanting me to go, I mean.”

“No. It was an awesome opportunity for you. I’m sorry I wasn’t more receptive to it.”

It feels weird, the way they’re talking. Both of them have calmed down enough that their tones almost sound casual, a pretty sharp difference to the actual subject matter.  _ Jihoon’s accident _ . The one that threw him on his head and spun his life all out of sorts.

“I wish we’d never had that argument,” Soonyoung’s voice is soft. “You wouldn’t have left my apartment, and you wouldn’t have gotten out on that road, and you and your memory would be perfectly fine and neither one of us would be in this mess. God, I really wish.”

“Yeah, me too … but it doesn’t do any good to wish. No matter what, we  _ are _ in this mess. We just gotta deal with it. There’s nothing else to do.”

Soonyoung looks at him gently, like he’s afraid one glance could shatter the both of them, and Jihoon reaches out to pat his hand. Things are a mess. His head is a mess, his life. But at the end of the day, they got themselves stuck in this together.

And maybe Soonyoung did something wrong, but there’s comfort in being stuck with someone you love regardless.


	5. Chapter 5

**⍮**

**JIHOON WAKES UP ** not in his bed, but on Soonyoung’s couch. He’s got a vague memory of the night before - sitting idly and not knowing what to say, Soonyoung looking away every time Jihoon’s eyes neared his. He can remember Soonyoung offering him his bed and him refusing it -  _ why didn’t he just go home?  _ \- and crying really hard into the couch cushions once he was sure Soonyoung was asleep.

_ “ … if we started from scratch, we could do things right, this time.” _

Where are they supposed to go from here? Jihoon barely stayed asleep throughout the night, and now he’s awake with the morning light hitting his face, waiting for Soonyoung to wake up and bring him back to reality; when he’s not around, Jihoon can almost pretend he’s a ghost, haunting somebody else’s house; once he comes downstairs, they’ll have to work things out.

So, again. Where are they supposed to go from here?

When Jihoon thinks down to the very end of it all, he knows he still loves Soonyoung, he knows he doesn’t want to leave him … but they broke up for a reason, didn’t they? Who’s to say things won’t go wrong a second time?

“Oh, you’re awake. I was going to make us breakfast.”

Jihoon flinches when he hears the voice behind him, caught off guard. “N-No, don’t,” he says, and pushes the blanket up closer to his eyes. “I’m not hungry.” He can hear Soonyoung sigh, and his voice gets distant when he moves into the kitchen.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks.

“I mean … I’m not  _ happy _ with you.”

“Yeah, that’s understandable.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, and there’s a clinkering sound as Soonyoung moves around to make his coffee. He comes back into the room a few minutes later, passing Jihoon his mug. “I know this doesn’t fix anything, but I’m sorry. Again.”

Jihoon stares at the drink a moment before sipping, almost carefully, like it’s going to burn his tongue, but it’s actually made exactly the way he likes it. He frowns. Soonyoung’s probably known how to make his coffee for years, now.

“I mean it, you know.”

“I do know.”

“You’re being so quiet I can’t - I wasn’t sure if you got it.”

“I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

Jihoon takes another sip, letting the blanket fall a little and feeling the chill hit his chest. His eyes burn, and his skin itches where the salt has dried. “We can’t go back to how we were before,” he says. “I wish we could, but we can’t.”

“We can try.”

“And we’ll fail, and we’ll both be hurt even more. I’m not up for that.”

Soonyoung moves slowly, unseen by Jihoon but audible, taking short steps before making his way around to the front of the couch. He stares at the empty spot, and Jihoon hesitantly moves the blanket and cushions to make more space for him to sit. When he does, their thighs touch.

“I won’t press you,” he says, and Jihoon’s heart feels like it’s caught between a clamp. “I’m not gonna screw you over more than I already have, but I - can I tell you something?”

“ … Yeah. Go for it.”

“Okay, so. I know you’re not big on like, spiritual stuff, but think about it - like, really think about it, and please don’t get mad at me - “

“Just say it, Soonyoung.”

“ - Right, right, I’m sorry - do you think that maybe - maybe the universe  _ wanted _ us to be together? Like, we were once, and then we broke up, and we still ended up here. Like maybe we weren’t meant to end.”

Jihoon thinks he could stick both his hands out and catch each of his heartbeats between his palms - they’re so far removed from his chest, so big and radiating, they’ve fallen right out of him. The sun pours in stronger, strips of light filtering through Soonyoung’s curtains, and Jihoon thinks that you never really realize how beautiful a place is until you see the sun rising over it. He sniffs.

His voice is just balancing on the edge of a whisper, and he says, “You’re right, I’m not that spiritual, but I think I’m so desperate to hold on to you, I just … you know something?”

“Hm?”

“The world is really pretty, right now. See, look - through the window, can you see the sky?”

Soonyoung stretches a little to look where Jihoon’s pointing, and the light hits his eyes in the prettiest way possible. They turn syrupy, melted and sweet, and Jihoon is still pointing at the window, but he’s only staring at Soonyoung.

“Yeah,” he says, “I see it.”

“Good. You know better than anyone else, I’m scared. I feel like part of me is always missing and I’m constantly wandering through life, half-existing. Because memory makes up so much of a person, right? It’s what shapes you.” Soonyoung nods.

“But as scared as I am, a lot of the time … I’ve never felt as good as I have with you. When we’re sitting together, and I can look at the sky and fall in love with the world, and I don’t hate being alive, I actually  _ like _ the feeling of air in my lungs and I  _ like _ the feeling of you beside me. Even now, I still do.”

Soonyoung keeps looking, unblinking. His cheeks look so soft, puffed up a little and reaching his eyes, and without thinking, Jihoon reaches up to press the back of his hand against his face. Soonyoung freezes. Jihoon says, “How do we know it won’t all go wrong, like it did the first time?”

Soonyoung’s voice is light, but steady. “We’ll make sure it doesn’t.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. We’ll see. If you - If you want, we can see.”

Jihoon settles it right then, in his heart - he’ll stay at the country house one more night, and then he’ll go back home. If Soonyoung decides he wants to go back with him … then that’s it. They’ll go together.

“I like that idea.”

“You’ll come?”

“You think there’s a chance I wouldn’t?”

Jihoon watches him, trying to pick out the look on his face but coming up empty. Finally, he murmurs, “What a love this is,” and Soonyoung smiles a little.

“It’s not perfect, but it’s ours.”

What a nice sentiment, Jihoon thinks. Far from perfect, definitely, but theirs nonetheless. He likes that.

—

“You’re coming back?” His mom sounds nearly breathless with relief, breathing out into the receiver. “Oh, gosh, that’s so good. I’m so happy you’ve been feeling better, baby, but I missed you so much.” Jihoon smiles thinly.

“Yeah, I missed you too, y’know … and I’ll be coming back with Soonyoung.”

“Oh - “ she pauses, voice cut on the edge of surprise, and Jihoon tries to fill her in with as few words as possible.

“He was living out here for a while, too. We’ve spent the last few months together.”

She speaks slowly, testing the waters, “And you … ? Do you remember him? What did - What happened?”

“Er, it’s a lot, I can tell you when I see you, but - uh. No, I didn’t remember him. I know everything now, though.”

“Jihoon, sweetie - “

“It’s okay, Mom, it’s fine. We’re actually … really good. Sort of, I guess.”

“You are?”

“Yeah. Like I said, I’ll explain everything once I’m back, I just thought I should let you know.”

“Okay … I’m happy you’re coming home, Jihoon.”

He breathes in deep, feeling the air open up his chest and clear out the cobwebs. “Me too,” he says, and he means it. “I love you. I’ll see you soon.”

—

The train ride back to Seoul isn’t tense, it isn’t awkward. Jihoon doesn’t look at Soonyoung and feel the urge to choke on his own tongue. They simply sit across from each other and keep one another company. Jihoon leans his head against the window and when he dozes off, he wakes up with Soonyoung’s hand over his and he doesn’t move it. They talk about things, life, Jihoon’s life before and after; part of him is unsettled in knowing that Soonyoung understands his past better than he does, but he’s also curious, he wants to hear it all.

Soonyoung tells him that they loved each other badly. That even when they argued, they always ended the night in each other’s arms, whispering sorry and kissing skin. They laughed hard and smiled like it was all they could do. They made each other happy. Jihoon starts to hate his past self for getting so angry, he thinks they could’ve had it all, life could’ve gone on being perfect the way it was, and Soonyoung tells him to stop thinking like that.

“I got angry too, you know, we both had a part in it. Things happened the way they did, and now … now we can make it what we want. We can’t stop what already happened from happening.”

Jihoon belives him, but it’ll take some time for him to move on from it. Soonyoung squeezes his fingers and tells him that they’ll make it together.

Jihoon’s mom meets them at the station and she squeezes Jihoon like he’s a sponge - he didn’t realize how much he was missing her, and now all the sad is draining out of him. She holds him tight, kisses his forehead, and pats Soonyoung on the cheek. It’s a little surreal, for all of them. Soonyoung makes Jihoon laugh later when he says, “I didn’t think I’d ever end up meeting your mom again, I hope she doesn’t hate me.”

“I don’t think she does,” he assures him, and he has faith in his own words. Jihoon’s mom watches them from the rearview window with a kind sort of affection, like she’s happy for them, and it’s so different to all the pitying looks Jihoon had gotten used to after the accident. He gets back to his apartment and asks Soonyoung to stay the night; they make plans to go to his place tomorrow so Jihoon can see what it looks like, and Soonyoung holds him all through the night, whispering comforts and I love yous.

“This isn’t too fast, is it?” he asks, and it must be nearing 4am. Jihoon’s brain is half-asleep.

“What is?”

“This, us. I feel like - like everything’s happening really quickly, and I just want you to be okay.”

Jihoon thinks about it for so long Soonyoung has to ask him if he fell asleep, and he yawns, “No, I’m awake, just … I can never say for sure if I’m okay.” He says it like an admission, like it’s some secret he’s been trying to keep, though he’s sure everyone already knew it. “I wouldn’t be able to tell you that - at least, not now. But what I  _ can _ tell you is that I’m sure I’d be so much less okay without you.” Soonyoung’s arms shift around him, thumb rubbing Jihoon’s forearm.

“I think a lot is happening all at once, coming back to the city and - and us, I guess … but I don’t want to be without you.”

This is remedy, Jihoon thinks. Coming back to life and feeling a little less dead. He looks at Soonyoung and feels his affection go sticky, rooting his feet to the ground and clotting in his arteries. It’s melted sugar between his gums, sweet against their tongues; Soonyoung helps him remember things like what he ate for breakfast and what his favorite movie used to be, he holds Jihoon at night.

“It was so weird,” he tells him, a little while later, “after what happened, we were practically strangers all over again. I had this plan, when we were still together - I wanted us to buy a little house together, and I wanted to spend my whole life with you. When we met again, I was trying to figure out how I could get back to that point.”

Soonyoung isn’t Jihoon’s first love, but he’s the first Jihoon remembers. He doesn’t know the protocol for this sort of thing. He doesn’t know if he’s going too fast or fooling himself.

But he doesn’t want to lie, so he says, “Well, you made it,” and the look Soonyoung gives him feels like everything is right in the world.

“I’m glad I got to meet you again,” he says. Jihoon’s heart swells.

“Yeah, me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow !!!! last chapter !!!!!!!!!! this whole fic was super fun for me to write and i reaaallyyyy really hope you guys liked it as much as i did - and now that basically all my current aus are done i can get to focusing on new ones !! thank you for being so patient and kind as ALWAYS aaaaa yall are the sweetest <3<3<3

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: cheniuvrs  
tumblr: 04ngel


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